


Mowing the lawn

by Count_of_Catterack



Series: This is a series about two idiots in love [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Lawn Mowing, M/M, Sort Of Dirty Talk, Summer, sort of flirting, the mature tag is just for the implicit mention of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Count_of_Catterack/pseuds/Count_of_Catterack
Summary: Draco is sprawled on a chair in the patio and wants to know why Harry is mowing the lawn like a muggle.





	Mowing the lawn

Draco was reading a monthly wizard fashion magazine, or something like that, Harry thought he saw the word mode on it but he wasn’t really interested in any of it. He could tell it was fascinating because Draco would nod or make a disgusted face from time to time. “Can you believe they put a beige robe on him?”

Harry wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying mainly because he was busy pushing the lawn mower. Plus, Draco had insisted on putting a silence charm around him. Too much noise for him, could have terrible headaches, not possible, huh huh. While Harry was busy imitating Draco in what Draco would have qualified as a childish manner, Draco cancelled the silencing charm and cast mild sonorous charm.

“I SAID, POTTER, CAN YOU BELIEVE THEY PUT A BEIGE ROBE ON HIM?” Draco yelled.

Harry started and stopped the device. “What did you say? What-“ He dropped his sentence when he saw Draco’s annoyed face. “What is beige anyway?”

Draco’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened. “You don’t know what beige is?”

“Oh wait, yes, it’s that color you hate so much”. Harry was glad he remembered it from the Ministry’s annual ball, Draco pestered Ron all the evening because “how dare he wear something so dreadful?”.

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. I don’t know how anyone would want to wear that. Well, unless they’re Weasley.” Draco flipped a page of his magazine, made a satisfied little noise, and mumbled something like “huh, my my, what an handsome fellow”. Harry decided it was better to go back to mowing before Draco could tell him all about that new model who has a great face, great eyes, great hair, and “his posterior area is also quite pleasing”.

Draco’s voice rose behind him as he was starting he engine. « Why do you insist on mowing the lawn by yourself? A house elf could do it” The simple question brought up numerous answers. Because he liked to do things “the muggle way”. Because it reminded him of Summers at the Dursleys where the only moment he could be alone with his thoughts was when the buzz of the lawn mower covered all the sounds. The cars driving by, taking and dropping people, the children screaming, his cousin’s mocking giggles, his aunt’s shrill cried, his uncle’s loud growls. Because he didn’t want to use a house elf for something he could do by himself. It was one of the perks of not having been reared in an aristocratic family. Even though they didn’t talk much about it, there was still a social and educational gap between them. Harry chose the last reason. Talking about muggles was still too touchy and he didn’t want for the Dursleys to ruin his mood.

“Don’t say this.” Harry looked around as if trying to see if bushy brown hair was not hidden in the bushes, and then peeked above his shoulder to look a Draco sprawled on a chair. “You know that Hermione doesn’t like it”.

“Granger and her ideas to “make the world a better place”.” Draco snorted and made quotations marks in the air. It was the title of one of her campaigns with the Ministry, not the best one she had thought of. It had been six months since she launched it and not one day passes without Draco reminding her of it. “Why do you worry about Granger? She’s in France, studying some spell or whatnot”

“…She could maybe hear you and come back screaming about how house elf have to be respected and treated equally” Harry shuddered at the thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about house elves, he did care a lot. It was just that Hermione was at her worse when she heard Draco speak about house elves.

Draco snorted. “Remind me exactly why do I have to be subjected to Granger’s tyranny?”

“You didn’t read the contract?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. He didn’t have to speak, Harry knew this eyebrow meant either an interrogation mark or a spiteful remark was going to come out of Draco’s lips.

“You know, the contract. When you accepted to go out with me you signed a contract which stipulates that you have to get on with my friends and my family.” Harry stepped on the patio and took the fresh glass of water on the table. And there’s also that part about you and me in the bedroom Harry thought.

“That my water you’re drooling into” Draco’s nose wrinkled in a mimic of disgust. Harry knew that he wasn’t that mad about it because he let him swallow two more mouthfuls without hexing him. He eyed him warily though. Harry liked that obsessive part of Draco, the one that hated germs, wanted everything to be perfect, overall, Draco’s perfectionist side was sometimes a pain and sometimes adorable. Well, in general, he was sometimes a pain and sometimes adorable, thought he would never admit to being cute. “I’m handsome, gorgeous, magnificent not a cute, fluffy animal, Potter”.

“I thought you liked me drooling into things. Or maybe you prefer when I drool over things.” Harry felt his ears becoming red. He had become used to flirting with Draco Malfoy, mainly because flirting was one of the languages Draco mastered, but he still couldn’t shake the idea that he shouldn’t be saying those things. Despite all this, he felt his grin widen when he saw Draco’s eyes scanning him from head to toes, particularly stopping on where sweat made his white tank top transparent.

“Is that an invitation?” Draco smiled. It wasn’t his seducing, I-can-make-every-witch-and-wizard-fall-for-me smile, but a more earnest one, just Draco’s open smile, and it made Harry glad he dropped by Draco’s shop one afternoon five months ago.

Harry put the glass down on the table, brushing Draco’s ear with his lips he whispered, “It could be.”

Draco’s breath hitched, he wetted his lips, and croaked. “You know I can’t turn down an invitation so… inviting.” Harry smiled and let himself be led into the house by Draco’s hand.

“I think I need a shower. Care to join me?”

 

- _The following morning_.-

“Harry? Why is the lawn like this?” Harry recognized Hermione’s voice. He wasn’t surprised to see her so early, she had access to their chimney and she often came to exchange books or have long (and boring) conversations with Draco (she actually liked to have somebody to talk to about potion, spells and weird, old languages though she will never admit it and will not stop bickering with Draco).

“Hello Granger, it’s also nice to see you, how has your journey been?”

Hermione ignored Draco, like she did most of the time, he was, after all, insufferable in the mornings. He was slouched in one of the kitchen’s table. Yes, slouched. Harry had never thought he would use this word to describe Draco Malfoy, but he was definitely not a morning person and not even a functioning person before he drank his full and dark mug of coffee. Draco simply frowned and went back to staring at the bottom of his mug.

 “Hi ‘Mione. What’s the problem with the lawn?” Harry yawned and raised one hand to scratch his head but Draco vaguely tried to catch it before it reached its goal.

“Don’t. You’ll mess up your hair.” Harry thought that he will never understand Draco’s fixation on hair. His hair was never going to be tamed and gently lean on one side like Draco’s did.

“It’s already messed up anyway.” It has been since he was born.

“Hm, I wonder whose fault is that.” Draco blew on his hot coffee, tried it with his tongue, and frowned a little more when he burned his tongue.

“I wonder too.” Harry crossed his arms. He apologized mentally to Hermione for forcing her to see them flirt. Well, he had supported years of indirectly flirt from Ron and her, she could handle it.

Hermione coughed, she wasn’t looking as embarrassed as Harry imagined. “Tell me if I interrupted something, so, Harry, why is only one half of the lawn mown?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am alive. I know it's been a while, I've been really busy, but I recently mowed the lawn and thought "huh, this could be a small drarry scene".  
> I could write the scene when they met at Draco's shop and the Ministry's ball, if anyone wants to read it that is.  
> Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: count-of-catterack.tumblr.com


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